A Horrifying Memory
by TheNeonWolf
Summary: What if Carl Grimes had actually been raped on that fateful night due to his dad not being able to save him on time? What would he be feeling afterwards? A collection of Carl's thoughts and feelings after this shocking incident.


_**This is rated M mostly for the memory of the incident. It is described but it is also pretty vague - just a quick warning.**_

_**So yeah this is what I would imagine Carl would be feeling if he actually had been raped. It's dark but it has a sweet ending :)**_

_**When I thought of making this I started writing like a crazy person and I couldn't stop. Sorry for any mistakes!**_

_**Please Review!**_

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No words could describe what Carl was feeling. Nothing was there but loneliness. Carl could still feel his entire body shaking. It hadn't stopped since the incident. When that man had taken away the only innocence Carl's being had remaining within itself. There was an arm wrapped around his shoulder, gripping him tightly. His father had not loosened the firmness of this grip since the incident either. Orange. That was the colour that was melting before Carl's ice cold eyes this very moment. A fire was lit in front of him. He was faintly aware of that, although it bid him no comfort. Not even the three familiar figures sat beside him around the lapping flames helped to ease the horrible nag that was floating within Carl's consciousness. The memory. The hardship. The horror.

The pain.

The only thing that broke through Carl's wall of dread and agony was his dad's burning stare. It wasn't constant but every so often Carl felt it, raging through the thick barrier of the unwanted recollections of the events that felt like they were still happening this very moment. Carl ignored it. He retreated himself and his thoughts to the very edge of his awareness, blotting out the darkness that was engulfing him and pursuing into his happiest dreams and feelings, destroying them. All that remained was shadows.

All he could do...

was remember.

He remembered the struggles as the man pinned him down under his weight.

His own whimpers as his arms flailed and pushed against the man's grip.

The man shushing him when he squirmed, like a lamb being told not to be afraid.

Being twisted around against his will, head pressed harshly against the ground.

Laughter, echoing into his ears as the man held him there, undoing his zipper and Carl's belt.

The man's hot breath against Carl's neck and the drool around the man's mouth.

Hatred.

And then, the screams, he could hear them being uttered from his own mouth and ringing into the silence of the wood.

It happened.

The pain.

The tears.

His dad did not save him in time.

He took too long.

He allowed the torture to go on what felt like forever.

It was when the Walkers came and distracted the gang of men when his father gained the opportunity to save his son.

Then it finally ended.

Carl felt as he was lifted up, with a knife to his throat, his trousers being pulled up by the man that had done it, the man that had destroyed him from the inside. He was crying uncontrollably, feeling the dismayed eyes of his friends watch him with horror. His father was walking over to the man that held him in his arms, knife in hand, eyes full of rage. Carl was dropped, the whole world spinning as he fell to the ground. He couldn't stop crying, he felt himself curl up on his side and press his hands against the top of his head willing himself to stop. Michonne ran over to comfort him, only for Carl to desperately scramble away from her arms, still in tears. He was aware of his father slaughtering the man that had done it to him, but it didn't change anything. When Rick finally finished he stumbled over to the trembling Carl and wrapped his arms tightly around Carl's body. It didn't make a difference. The barrier between reality and himself had already been formed by Carl. Carl acknowledged his father's gentle words being murmured into his ear "It's okay, it's over, you're safe..." but they didn't help either. They didn't ease his sobbing.

Only when the fire was lit did he stop making a sound, or any sign of emotion for that matter, as he withdrew from the harsh reality.

Carl's entire body twitched as he returned to the present time. He realized he was staring at the palms of his trembling hands. There was a blurred whisper coming out of his father's lips when he looked up at his face. When his father stood up Carl realized he was being taken back into the car. His entire body tensed and he forced himself away from his father's grip. His ears picked up another sound come out of his father's mouth that somewhat comforted him and he was taken into the car to sleep.

His father lay down beside him as he slept, his arm wrapped around his son's waist. Carl tried to sleep but couldn't stop shaking. He could feel his dried up tears on his cheeks and the stinging pain of the gash on his cheek. When he closed his eyes all he could see was the man above him, laughing.

It was happening again.

Only this time, no one else was there but the strangers that had attacked them in the night, laughing at him as it went on.

And on.

And on.

Carl gave a shout as he woke up and felt his father jolt with shock. Carl was crying again, unable to keep it silent. His father sighed sadly, lifting Carl up so he was sitting up and hugged him "Shhh... It's okay... it was just a dream, you're fine, I'm here..." Rick's words came to Carl's ears as words of ease. He could feel them washing away the darkness that had settled within his mind. He closed his eyes as his crying stopped. The wall that he had built around himself was gone, shattered like glass by his father's hushed and calming words. Carl pushed away from his father to look into his reassuring eyes "I-I'm sorry, I'm just being stu-"his father interrupted him with light shushing sounds and they went in for another hug. Carl held on to his father's waist, not wanting it to end. His father rocked him back and forth in his arms and Carl heard his soothing words in his ear "You're my son, I'm proud of you." Carl's breathing slowed. The words that normally brought him guilt and remorse only brought him relief. He could feel his father rubbing his back slowly as his entire body relaxed. When they lay down again he wondered why it felt so easy to get to sleep, but that's when he realized; he'd stopped shaking.


End file.
